so he was shitfaced and kept using sticky notes to label everything like "beer spill" and "going to fuck later"
And for 6 straight hours, I laid on my bedroom floor trying to convince myself it would perfectly acceptable to pee on my own floor
i cleaned the weed out of my bowl, pretended it was a spoon and ate oatmeal with it. my mom cried
Party at my house. Liquor pinata. Your presence is required.
Turns out they use me as an example of What Not To Do at freshman orientation. My little brother told me.
He couldn't say anything coherently but shot off a perfectly timed "that's what she said" when michelle said he'd have to ride in the trunk because she didn't have enough room up front.
There is a large, jolly black gentleman in the parking lot of my appartment complex yelling about 5am jelly doughnuts. I want to be where he's at.
Legitimate concern. Who am I going to have birthday sex with?
I have no idea. There are 6 asians singing hey soul sister to me right now.
I am so proud of him. After eating the rest of our shrooms, he finally registered to vote
It's Been clinically proven that people who have sex 6 or more times per week are happier than those who don't. Just and FYI. For your mental health. From a soon so be psychologist. Who is drunk.
I still have your make up all over the inside of my thighs from the face sitting. Free tonight?
The doctor basically called me a dirty dick.
All I want is a hot dog on a Saturday at 2:19 is that to much to ask?!
Get your dick back in here. On Saturdays, you're not allowed to leave my bed unless it's to make me bacon or coffee.
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